


My Lost Boy.

by EvelynParker



Category: Darling (Ryan Scott Oliver)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25265827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvelynParker/pseuds/EvelynParker
Kudos: 1





	1. My Lost Boy

“I definitely wasn’t hanging around here hoping to bump into you or anything.” A familiar voice pipes up from outside your window, making you smile and perk up as the owner of the voice levitates just outside your room. You smirk, leaning out your window as you stare down the young man in front of you, “Peter...you’re floating outside my bedroom window right around the time I open it for you, how could you not bump into me?” Your teasing tone makes the lost boy flush at being caught in the act, but he recovers quickly as he replies, “Yeah, well...not my fault that being able to see you whenever I want has me excited.” You laugh, shaking your head as you run a hand through his unkempt hair, smiling as he presses into your touch, “How sweet of you to say, my little Lost Boy.” Peter’s face goes red at your little pet name for him, still not entirely used to being spoken to so kindly, seeing as the story he’d told you that created the nickname was quite heartbreaking to begin with, “You’re so confusing sometimes, dear heart.”

You grin, ruffling his hair, “Well, glad I could return the favor every once in a while...how are the rest of the lost kids and everyone?” Instead of answering with the usual description of the nightly shenanigans of his merry band of Boston misfits, Peter catches you off guard by pecking you on the lips. You reel back, hand raising to the edge of your mouth as you utter your surprise, “You kissed me~!” Peter frowns at your reaction, biting his lip as he moves away, “Is that bad?” You lick your lips, shaking your head as you brush a finger over your lips before reaching to do the same to his, “N-Not at all...I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

Peter nods, ducking his head and withdrawing from your arms a bit, making you pout, taking his hand in both of yours as you murmur, “Peter...would you want to spend the night here?” Peter glances up at you through his bangs, sniffing slightly as he mumbles, “Thought you wanted to take things slowly Darling.” You blush, nodding at his slightly bitter tone, “I still do...but even if we don’t do anything like that, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay here with me tonight.” Peter frowns, staring silently up at you for a moment before nodding, following you over to your bed, joining you in the nest of warm blankets after you get comfortable under them. It seems he’s not so lucky with finding a good position to fall asleep, and you sigh softly as he squirms and turns about next to you, freezing as you pull him into your arms, murmuring, “Sleep, Peter...I’ll still be here when you wake, I promise.” Peter doesn’t reply to your statement, but you can tell by his breath evening out that your dear-heart had lost himself in his dreams, filled with his happiest thought...you.


	2. Happy Thoughts

•"No one has a romantic bone in their body anymore! What happened to playing songs outside windows, glitter and sparkles on handmade Valentine’s cards, dancing in the rain!? What happened?!” •Those words were the start of a long line of fantastical traditions between you and your Lost Boy, because next thing you know, Peter’s outside your bedroom window, singing about running away to London, to which you always teasingly reply, “London, Peter, you aren’t serious?” •Every Valentine’s Day he gives you cards covered in body glitter and fairy dust, though after a gentle but firm talk about his biggest addiction, he changes the latter to glow in the dark stars, with a heart around the second one to the right on the edge of the card, the inside reading something along the lines of, ‘Thank you for believing in me, Darling.’ •Whenever the weather turned slightly cloudy, he would drag you out to his favorite queer little hideaway, spinning you in dizzying circles as the sprinkler system he and the boys had set up washed you down like rain. •All in all, you were so ecstatically happy that your favorite misfit had taken something you had randomly said in passing so deeply to heart, always seemingly doing anything and everything to keep a smile on your face, no matter the hardships the two of you faced.


End file.
